


A Quiet Place

by toad_in_the_road



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Ableist Language, American Sign Language, BACK ON MY BULLSHIT, Because marvel was a coward, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Deaf Peter Parker, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Irondad, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, im gay, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2020-09-28 20:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20432168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toad_in_the_road/pseuds/toad_in_the_road
Summary: Why are you running around in pajamas, huh? Come on, I'm curious.Peter shuffled, a bit uncomfortable, but strangely, the embarrassment was slowly starting to fade. "Because..." He paused, trying to think how to phrase it without giving out everything. "Because I've been ME-" He emphasized me, "-my whole life...and I've had these powers for six months. I read books, I build computers...and yeah, I would love to do something about this-" He waved his hand around his ears, suddenly shocked with the fact he was telling freaking Iron Man this, "-but I don't know what'd happen now."Because you're different now."Yeah. But I can't tell anyone that so I'm not." He stalled, very unsure if he wanted to continue. But he did."...when you can do the things that I can...but...but you don't, and then the bad things happen...they happen because of you." He was very, very slow when he talked now, although he wished he could speed it up, he'd rather do anything than go into detail on that subject...





	1. Trying To Read

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot BELIEVE im back on my bullshit again. enjoy.
> 
> i've been taking an ASL class for the last couple of weeks, and I love it. One thing that shocked me was how detailed Deaf culture is. I always knew ASL was a real language, what with it having it's own grammar and all, but it was amazing and great to learn about Deaf culture, and NOW i get more than ever why people are so pissed about non-deaf Clint Barton.
> 
> If I get any Deaf culture wrong or incorrect, please correct me. I'm by no means an expert, and the last thing I want to do is marginalize an already marginalized group. I'm trying to potray it as accurately as I can, and write it as both someone within the Deaf community (Peter) and everyone else who knows and communicates with Peter on a daily basis. If i make a mistake and offend you or you think I'm being offensive, PLEASE tell me. I want to make this as real as possible.
> 
> thank you, and enjoy

It was a good day for Peter Parker until he walked in the door, and saw his idol, and his idol saw him, and he realized this was not going to go the way he wanted it to.

He didn't move, giving May a slightly (very) terrified look. May smiled at him like this was a good thing or something crazy like that.

Peter just stood there, not wanting to talk, even less so wanting to speak and embarrass himself. 

Tony Stark (Iron Man!) said something, but his lips were moving too fast for Peter to even get a clue of what he was saying. May said when he got excited, he was hard to understand too. It was hard to imagine, but he had been using his hands all his life, everyone else was new except for May, and she still sometimes stumbled over the alphabet. 

(The letter P was a bitch, he couldn't deny that)

"This is Tony Stark." May said, deciding to take initiative. Peter was fairly certain he would die of embarrassment when he saw Stark looked surprised when May moved her hands as she spoke. "He said you applied to his thing, the September Foundation? Why didn't you tell me?"

Peter was quiet, trying to figure out what was going on and whether he wanted to speak or not. He decided against, as his voice, according to one certain Flash, sounded like he had a mouth full of peanut butter.

Peter didn't know what that sounded like, but it was probably not great. 

"I wanted to surprise you." He answered, surprising himself with his ease. He was getting scary good at lying on the spot. "Because I know how much you like surprises."

May blinked, looking unsure, but Stark said something, and May said something back, and Peter realized she had asked him to slow down his talking.

Being caught naked in the middle of school would be less embarrassing than this. 

Stark nodded. He turned back to Peter. He was still pretty fast (at least he didn't mouth out each word as some people did) but Peter got the gist. He wanted to talk in private. And he had a way to speak with him. 

After a moment, Peter agreed, leading the world-famous multi-billionaire to his tiny room. 

Stark closed the door, and leaned over Peter's trash can, spitting out whatever it was that May had given him. He glanced back at Peter, typing something into his phone and putting on a pair of glasses that probably cost more than Peter's entire neighborhood. 

"So I didn't apply for your grant-" Peter started, unsure if he could talk or not, but Stark held up his finger for Peter to wait. It looked like he said _Me first._

Peter's hands stilled, nervousness and embarrassment mounting. 

_Question,_ Stark said, pulling out his phone again. The screen widened, and there was a video of him, taking out a carjacker. _That's you, right?_ Stark asked, lips all too clear. 

Peter felt a pit drop in his stomach. "No." He said stupidly. 

Another video popped up, the one where he stopped the car from hitting the bus. Peter winced, trying to stop his hands from shaking. "That's on YouTube right? That's all fake."

Stark set the phone down, and Peter tried to figure out how to make the video go away. "They can make anything on computers these days, you know, like...like that video of the bees lifting a laptop, they-" He turned, seeing Stark use the yardstick lying in the corner of his room to push up on the hole in the ceiling that hid his suit. Peter yelped, feeling the sound pop out from his throat, jumping up and snatching the outfit, throwing it into the closet. 

He turned back to Stark, and the man had the nerve to look amused. 

_So you're the Spiderling..._ He seemed to try out a few more names with the word spider, but Peter wasn't sure. He felt his face turn red.

"Spider-man." He said, hands very slow and still.

_Not in that onesie, you're not,_ was the answer. 

"It's not a onesie," Peter said, uncomfortable. He sighed. "I was having a good day. I didn't miss my train, found a great DVD player sitting in the trash, nailed an algebra pop quiz..." He scooted around Stark, trying to avoid his gaze. 

He felt a tap on the floor, and Peter looked back. Stark was still there. _Who else knows? Anybody?_ He asked.

Peter shook his head.

_Not even your..._ His lips moved very fast, and Peter had a weird feeling it was on purpose. _Aunt?_

Peter shook his head again, and several times. "If she knew she'd freak out, and when she freaks out I freak out..." He paused, realizing he was moving his hands very quickly, and he slowly stopped his tangent. 

Stark didn't seem to notice. _Know what I think is cool?_ He tossed a little bottle to Peter, who caught it easily and looked inside. His webbing. Stark said something else, but he seemed to forget who he was talking to, as he looked down to the suit, fiddling with it. Peter nodded stupidly, pretending to listen. He wasn't going to waste the man's time...

_Who made it?_ Stark asked. 

"I did." Peter said. 

_And the climbing walls? Sticky gloves?_

"No, I-hey!" Stark was looking through the goggles of the suit, seeming amused. 

Peter grabbed the suit, throwing it into the hamper. _Can you even see in those?!_

"Yes! I can! It's just...when whatever happened happened, it's like my senses were dialed to 11." Well, not all of them, he thought with some dark humor. "There's...way too much input, so they just kinda help me focus."

_You need an upgrade,_ Stark said, waving his hand at Peter, although Peter could tell very much he wanted to ask about the elephant in the room. _Why are you doing this?_

Peter blinked.

_Why are you running around in pajamas, huh? Come on, I'm curious._

Peter shuffled, a bit uncomfortable, but strangely, the embarrassment was slowly starting to fade. "Because..." He paused, trying to think how to phrase it without giving out everything. "Because I've been ME-" He emphasized me, "-my whole life...and I've had these powers for six months. I read books, I build computers...and yeah, I would love to do something about this-" He waved his hand around his ears, suddenly shocked with the fact he was telling freaking Iron Man this, "-but I don't know what'd happen now."

_Because you're different now._

"Yeah. But I can't tell anyone that so I'm not." He stalled, very unsure if he wanted to continue. But he did.

"...when you can do the things that I can...but...but you don't, and then the bad things happen...they happen because of you." He was very, very slow when he talked now, although he wished he could speed it up, he'd rather do anything than go into detail on that subject...

Stark was very still for a moment. _So you wanna help out the little guy,_ He went on, but he was mumbling, and Peter couldn't understand.

"Yeah! Just looking out for the little guy." He agreed. 

Stark stood up, staring at Peter. Peter was quiet, confused until Stark nodded at his leg, which was stretched out on the bed. He swung it down with a quick "Sorry." and Stark sat down. 

Stark patted his shoulder awkwardly, and Peter gave him a look. _Got a passport?_

"I-I don't even have a driver's license-"

Stark said something else and waited. Oh no. A question. Peter had missed it.

He felt his face turn red. "I...didn't catch that, sorry Mr. Iron Man, I-"

_Germany?_ He said, more slowly but not obnoxiously so, not seeming irritated with Peter's lack of understanding at all. _Ever been?_

"No." Peter blinked.

_You'll love it._

Peter's eyes widened. "I can't go there!"

_Why not?_

Peter paused, quite unprepared for this question. "I...have homework."

It was Stark's turn to be quiet. _I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that._

"I'm serious, I can't just drop out of school!" 

_Might be a little dangerous,_ He said, getting up. _Better tell Aunt-_

He had turned, reaching for the door, and Peter didn't see the rest of what he was saying. But he certainly knew it when someone was saying 'aunt'.

He jumped up, shooting out webbing to stick Stark's hand to the doorknob. Stark looked up, surprised.

"Don't tell Aunt May." Peter said, somewhat sheepish.

But Stark looked pleased.

_Alright, Spider-man._

Peter grinned, embarrassment entirely gone.

_Can you get this off of me?!_

Now the embarrassment was back.

"Sorry sorry..."

Well, he supposed this would be cultural enrichment, even if he couldn't put it on college applications.


	2. AC/DC

Peter had never been in a more awkward car ride than he had with Stark’s head of security, Happy. 

Happy had to drive, so he couldn’t turn back to speak with Peter or guess what Peter was trying to tell him, and Peter was absolutely not going to speak. 

Since he was old enough to start, he had been going to a speech therapist, first put through by his parents in an effort to make him as normal as possible, and then by Peter’s own choice to make his life a little easier. 

Peter liked his speech therapist, Christine. She was nice and patient and genuinely wanted to help him. He still sometimes visited her and had helped her a few times as Spider-Man. 

But it was expensive, and after Ben...

Well, he didn’t see Christine much anymore. So he was stuck with a mouthful-of-peanut-butter voice that he never intended to use unless he was on death’s door. And even then there was a fifty-fifty chance he’d ask for help.

Peter glanced up, feeling a deep drone above him, and saw a huge jet soar above him. He wriggled, unsure. The droning wasn’t very comfortable. Maybe he wouldn’t feel it once he was on the plane? 

Doubtful. 

“Thanks, Happy.” Peter said, climbing out of the car. He saw Stark standing by the entrance, and he waved, reaching for his suitcase, rather startled when Happy grabbed it. 

“I can get it-“ But Happy wasn’t looking at him, and he wouldn’t understand him anyway. 

Peter sighed. 

The rest of the way wasn’t that much easier. Customs didn’t have an interpreter, and Peter couldn’t find any paper on him to explain, because for some reason the TSA agent didn’t understand that pointing at his ears and shaking his head meant that repeating the questions quicker and louder was useless. 

Eventually Stark had to step in, and Peter was red faced and ready to be sent home by the end of it, and they weren’t even on the plane. 

But Stark didn’t send him home. 

Odd. 

Peter dug through his bag, trying to find his headphones. He hoped they hadn’t gotten broken. 

As turned out, the headphones were fine. His phone was dead, though. 

He sighed, turning over the headphones uselessly. It looked like a strange chain necklace, a mess of wires and plugs leading out to two small, foam covered metal disks. Peter fiddled with the wires, hoping the journey hadn’t jostled them. 

Stark tapped his shoulder. _What’s that? A good luck necklace?_

Peter shook his head, a bit embarrassed. “Headphones.” Stark looked a bit confused. 

“They make headphones and stuff for deaf people. They work by like...using vibrations from the music, I guess. I can feel it.” He shrugged, as though he hadn’t spent days studying it. “But they’re kinda expensive, so I made my own. That’s why they’re kinda...not great.” 

But Stark looked impressed. _You made them by yourself? Can I see?_

Peter paused, and then nodded, handing the headphones to Stark. He examined them, turning them over carefully. “I can’t use them. I forgot to charge my phone.” Peter explained, taking them back.

_What kind of music do you listen too?_

Peter blinked, confused. “Anything I guess, I’m not picky-“

_These work with Bluetooth?_

Peter nodded.

Stark handed him his phone. _Use mine if you want._

Peter froze, shocked. “What?”

_You can use my playlist if you want. I have good music taste._ Happy glanced up, saying something to Stark, and Stark waved him off with an eye roll.

“I-I don’t…” Peter swallowed, feeling as if someone had suddenly handed him a very expensive baby. “What if I break it?”

_You won’t. And if you do, I’ll buy a new one._ Stark shrugged.

Peter swallowed, entirely unsure if Stark was being serious. Trying to act casual, he turned on his headphones, feeling them buzz to life. Stark connected his phone, and clicked shuffle on his music, handing the phone back to Peter.

Peter put on the headphones and grinned, realizing what it was immediately from the vibrations in his chest.

“AC/DC! Awesome!” He said excitedly, glancing at Stark.

Stark smirked back. _See? He has good taste_ He told Happy.

Now Happy rolled his eyes, but Peter was too excited to care, tapping his foot along to the pulse of the music, pulling out his homework with determination. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be too hard after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> such headphones in the chapter are really only a hundred bucks or so, but come on, peter would totally make his own


	3. Yawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive seen the same deer standing near the road almost every time i drive to go to school or work or whatever and im starting to worry its real life foreshadowing

Tony wouldn't be the first to admit he'd been surprised before, but he was. Quite a bit. 

This was definitely in the top ten. 

When he first heard about the new guy swinging around Queens with a weird spider-theme thing going on, he thought it was a hoax. Apparently not, because as time went on, more videos went up, all cleared by FRIDAY to be completely unedited. 

So he was even more shocked when the kid, Peter Parker, was just that. A kid. 

And he was deaf.

Tony was a bit embarrassed now that he didn't do any research on the kid. He had wanted to value Parker's privacy until he knew the kid was in, but...now he looked stupid.

It wasn't like he had never interacted with people like him before. Barton came to his mind (he was with Steve now, dammit) even though Barton used hearing aids, and it was pretty hard to tell he was deaf unless he forgot or broke them. (That happened a lot, though)

Parker didn't have anything like that, for whatever reason. Maybe they just didn't work, maybe he didn't want to use, Tony didn't care too much. He was lucky he had put ASL into his translators or their conversations would be all the more difficult. 

Parker was smart, Tony couldn't deny that, but he had a feeling the kid missed a lot and didn't say anything to save himself and Tony some time. 

And the kid agreed to come anyway. Tony didn't know if that made him brave or stupid. Maybe both.

The plane began to descend, and Tony nudged Parker, who had passed out halfway through the flight. He jerked awake, looking startled, and immediately flinched, putting his to his ear. Ah. The air pressure. He hadn't popped his ears during descent. 

Tony waved to get his attention. "You gotta yawn." He said, demonstrating, feeling a bit silly. Peter seemed to understand, copying him, and looked relieved.

'Thank you. I've never been on a plane before.' He said. Tony nodded, texting Rhodey and Natasha they were in the country.

Parker had pulled out his phone, texting his Aunt that he was here, and then texting his friend-the contact said Ned-loaf, kids these days-for the homework he missed. He frowned when a long list popped up.

The ride to the hotel was a short one, not too exciting, but Parker seemed to think the opposite, taking pictures of everything he saw, no matter how mundane.

Tony found a crumpled receipt in his pocket, writing down a message and handing it back to Parker. The kid read it.

_Aren't there pigeons and dogs in New York? You won't really be able to show anyone these, you know._

Peter glanced up. 'These are German pigeons and dogs. They probably speak German.'

Tony blinked, turning back to face him. "They speak pigeon and dog." He said.

'German pigeon and dog.' 

Tony rolled his eyes, sitting back to face the front. "What'd he say?" Happy asked.

"He's certain that the pigeons and dogs here are very different from the ones in New York because they speak German." Tony said.

Happy blinked. "Alright then." He said simply.

Tony's phone dinged, and he glanced at it. A text from Peter with an image attached. He glanced back at the kid, who was pretending not to notice Tony, a big, shit-eating grin on his face.

Tony opened the image.

It was one of Peter's pigeon photos, edited to make it look like the pigeon was wearing one of those dumb, green, German overall things from cartoons, complete with a hat with a feather.

Tony snorted in spite of himself.

*** *** ***  
Peter hadn't expected the small box on his hotel room bed. 

It was small, looking a bit like a long, thin shoe box. The label on it said 'Spider-man'.

So it was probably for him. 

Peter opened it, and his mouth fell open when he saw the bright red and blue design, far fancier than his sweatshirt and goggles. For a second, he was nervous, as if the suit might burst into flames, or disappear. He still expected to wake up. Maybe this was a dream. Or some weird hallucination. 

Still. It was a cool hallucination. 

He put it on backwards the first time, but the second time was correct. He grinned at himself in the bathroom mirror, throwing a few fake punches. He looked pretty badass. 

He pulled the mask on and blinked, and the mask's eyes blinked with him. Peter started, surprised. He blinked again, and the grin came back full force. 

This was the coolest thing ever. 

He did a few flips, walking on the ceiling, swinging across the tiny hotel room. He jumped, clinging to the ceiling when the door suddenly opened. Stark came in and looked up at him, looking slightly amused.

_Like the new suit?_ He asked. Peter nodded, pulling the mask off. 

"So what's going on anyway? Like...I haven't really gotten all the details." Peter dropped from the ceiling. 

Stark sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He motioned for Peter to follow him, writing down something on the paper and pen left by the hotel staff.

'I assume you know Captain America'. The note read.

Peter blinked. "Well...I mean, not personally-oh my God, do I get to meet him?!"

Stark cringed as if Peter said something wrong. Peter paused. "I guess not?"

'Well, you will, but old Rogers is in a bit of trouble. Have you heard about the Vienna bombing?' Peter nodded. He had done a paper about it for a current events project his class was doing. 

'Well, it turns out that bomber is a good friend of Captain Rogers'. And he's not really listening to anyone, including me. Thing is, there's a not fun guy who's also after the bomber, and I have sixteen hours to bring him in before the not nice guy goes nuts and blows everyone up. Make sense?' 

Peter blinked, very unsure how to process this. "So...we're arresting Captain America."

'Exactly.'

Peter shuffled. "And...what if he doesn't want to be arrested?"

'I don't think anyone wants to be arrested.'

"I mean, what if he really doesn't want to be arrested?"

'Then we have to try really hard so he does because as pissed as I am with him right now, I don't want him smeared across the concrete because the not nice guy got impatient.'

"How do we take down Captain America?" Peter paused, realizing what he just said before he grinned. "Shoot him in the legs, because his shield is the size of a dinner plate and he's an idiot."

'No one's shooting anyone, calm down.'

"No, it's a Vine."

'A what? Look, are you in or not?'

Peter grinned widely, nodding. "You can count on me, Mr. Iron Man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "hOw cAN pETeR WaTch VInE iF hE's DeAF"  
.........................................................................................subtitles


	4. A Brief History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Hawkguy7 for their information on lip-reading and accents, otherwise i would have looked rather stupid
> 
> also why does scarlett johanssen not move her face when she talks? shes a queen but still

Late December 2015, Peter woke up, sickness from the night before mercifully gone. He rubbed his hand, wincing when he felt the spider bite sting painfully.

There was no possible way one of the spiders that Oscorp was experimenting on bit him. It was just some random, asshole spider that bit him. 

The field trip had sucked, to say the least. 

As a sort of congratulations to the freshman at Midtown for passing their midterms, the school took them on a trip to Oscorp on the last day of the first semester to see their latest project. Peter hadn't been all too interested in going, only doing so when he realized the alternative was sitting in a room for six hours until school let out.

He would be fine with that, but then he found out Ned was going, and he decided he didn't want to face six hours of cluelessness alone.

Ned was probably the most perfect friend Peter could ask for. When they first met when Peter was little, Ned had tried to strike up a conversation. Peter had written down an explanation for his non-responsiveness, and Ned had frowned and left. Peter had thought that was the end of that, but Ned came back the next day, grinning, and told Peter he had convinced his parents to let him take ASL lessons so they could talk.

And to Peter's shock, Ned stuck with the lessons and was probably the only person outside of Peter's family who could carry on a full conversation. 

It wasn't until years later that Peter realized the significance. Ned had essentially saddled himself to 'the deaf kid in the corner', and it was nearly impossible to branch out from there. Peter had haltingly explained this to Ned, forcing himself to encourage his only real friend to stop hanging out with him, to which Ned replied 'But I like hanging out with you', seeming confused that Peter would ever suggest such a thing.

Ned was a link to the outside world, an interpreter and defender at the same time when he had asked for neither. And honestly? Peter was beyond grateful. Ned kept away isolation, made him feel normal, or at least slightly. 

But Ned couldn't do everything, and Peter had waved off his attempts to translate what the tour guide had been saying. Ned wasn't very good at real-time translation, usually writing down important information for Peter. Why would he be? He wasn't an interpreter, he was Peter's friend. The last thing Peter wanted was Ned to feel responsible for him.

Peter had mindlessly followed the group, pretending to pay rapt attention when he was really planning what movie to watch with May and Ben when he got home. 

And then the spider had bitten him, and he felt feverish on the way home, sweating so much in the winter weather that his glasses kept slipping off his nose. Then when he got home, he vomited so much he was fairly certain he puked out a kidney or something.

At least May and Ben were working late, he didn't want to bother them.

So now here he was, the first day of winter break, three days before Christmas, a headache coming on as he fumbled for his glasses on the side of the bed.

But when he put them on, there was something strange. 

The world was blurry. 

Peter blinked, taking them off to clean them, and blinked again. The world was perfectly clear without his glasses. 

That was...weird. 

What was also weird was he suddenly had a horrific migraine. 

Peter's eyes shut again, suddenly realizing how much there was around him. The winter sun peeking through his blinds was like a searchlight shining directly into his pupils, determined to blind him. He could smell car exhaust and gasoline so strongly he wondered if he would asphyxiate, even though he was fairly certain there were only two cars on his street. He could feel every point of contact his shirt had on his body, every hair it managed to twist and jostle, each string of fabric like an electric rod. 

The smell of toast overtook the air, Ben's usual breakfast. Peter barely had time to grab his wastebasket before he gagged into it, dry heaving, nothing left to give from the night's round of vomiting just a few hours earlier.

_So maybe that was a radioactive spider that bit me..._

Peter paused, a treasonous thought coming to his head. With shaking hands, ignoring the unbearable feeling of his shirt rubbing against him when he moved. He brought his middle finger and thumb up to his ear.

He snapped.

Nothing.

He snapped again. He could feel the quick, sharp movement of his fingers, aggravating his senses once again to the point of nausea, but he continued to snap uselessly, his ears never sensing anything more than when he held his fingers to close and flicked his ear.

He dry heaved into his wastebasket again, this time feeling unfair grief.

Even after this, even after everything, he couldn't hear.

He didn't mind wearing glasses. He didn't mind being a weak loser, he didn't mind being a nerd, it all paled in comparison to being unable to hear, unable to speak like a normal person, unable to have a clue of what was going on unless it was told to him in ASL, or more likely, it was written down carelessly and as an afterthought, or he had to stare creepily at a person's face to guess what they were saying, or most often, sit silently and nod like an idiot and hope he hadn't agreed to sell his soul. 

Even after everything, he was still broken.

One week later, Ben was shot, and bled out on the steps of a 7/11 on a freezing January night, Peter uselessly trying to beg for help with a lisping, ugly voice and frozen hands that no one understood.

*** *** ***

Peter had absolutely zero ideas what Pietro Maximoff was saying. 

Stark wasn't easy, but he had sort of picked up on how the man spoke, and what he couldn't decode was generally filler anyway.

Peter had long since learned that the more people spoke, the less they had to say. 

But Quicksilver had an accent, and not just a New York accent. He had a Slavic accent, which meant his mouth moved in weird ways Peter had never seen except in a few movies, which luckily had captions. And King T'Challa's accent...he wasn't even going to try to understand him. 

And Black Widow didn't move her mouth much when she spoke either, though she didn't speak much to begin with, and Peter had to admit she scared the crap out of him and he would probably be too focused on not shaking in front of her to read her lips anyway.

And oh God, Vision. Evidently, being an Andriod meant your lips barely moved when you spoke, and now Peter was panicked with the sudden realization that he couldn't understand over a majority of his team members, not that he could exactly understand them well anyway.

But now he was fighting truly, completely blind.

He was waiting in the hangar, tapping his foot anxiously, hoping no one would try to talk to him. Something flashed in front of his face from under the mask. Words.

**Hey, kid. It's me. Can you see this? Just nod.**

Peter nodded, shocked.

**Good. Alright, this little gadget will flash up what people are saying for you. And you have to listen to me. Seriously, these guys aren't going to want to kill you or even really injure you, but if you don't listen to me I'm telling May everything. Got it, kid?**

Peter nodded again.

**And speak of the devil. Eyes up.**

Peter snapped his head up, seeing Captain-freaking-America skid to a halt when Stark landed in front of him, talking to him. Captain America appeared to be alone, but Peter had a feeling that people were waiting in the wings.

A message popped up in front of his eyes, but not from Stark. **Maximoff, P: Do you see her?**

Peter paused, turning around quickly when he realized Quicksilver was right behind him, looking forlorn. Right...his twin was with Captain America. He wasn't sure of the whole story, but it was something to do with the disaster in Laos.

Peter shook his head. He didn't know where Scarlet Witch was. 

Quicksilver frowned. **Maximoff, P: Do you have any siblings?**

Peter shook his head.

Quicksilver smiled, seeming to maybe laugh. **Maximoff, P: Not much of a talker, huh?**

Peter felt his face go hot, shrugging uselessly, glancing back to the main fight. Stark looked frustrated, shouting something. 

**Underoos!**

He supposed that was his signal. Peter leaped onto the top of a plane, throwing himself off in a flip, attaching a retractable web to Captain America's shield and yanking it towards him, webbing the man's hands together with the other web-shooters.

He landed easily on the car next to Stark, looking up and staring down Captain America with what he hoped was a fearsome glare.

That was when Peter decided this was the most badass moment of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Pietro is not dead!  
Why?  
Because they killed him for shock value in Age of Ultron and then they forgot he existed and that's some grade-a bullshit i do not stand for. so in this world, he's alive and sprinting  
he sides with Tony because...well, he had a bad time with Hydra experimentation. he figures with the accords, stuff like what happened to him and wanda wont happen to other people. also, he's not all too forgiving to Bucky, seeing as he's a Hydra operative, even if his sister is with cap. Pietro figures the fact that wanda will forgive him pretty quickly, and that soon they'll all be laughing over this with maybe a few telekinetic arm punches for siding against her.  
and oh baby is he gonna get proven wrong  
also peter and pietro being bros along with big sis wanda???? here for it


	5. Blink Twice If You're Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bros being bros

After Peter got beaned in the head with a vibranium shield, he decided this was no longer all that badass.

In fact, it was a bit scary.

He crashed into some sort of trailer, feeling a vague irritation when he saw Captain America run from him.

As it turned out, it wasn't as simple as going for the legs. And the shield was slightly larger than a dinner plate. 

Quicksilver suddenly appeared in front of him, and Peter jumped. Quicksilver was speaking quickly, too quickly for Peter to understand him even if he didn't have an accent.

Chinese characters lit up his vision, and Peter realized with a sinking stomach the word processor for the mask must have gotten damaged in the fight.

Quicksilver knelt next to him, speaking again, looking very concerned. Peter decided to take his chances and nodded in response to whatever Quicksilver was saying. Evidently, this was the wrong choice, as Quicksilver looked horrified, reaching forward to pull off Peter's mask.

Peter jumped up, scurrying up the side of the building, holding his mask on protectively. Quicksilver looked confused, saying something else, and then looked a strange mix of relieved and irritated. 

Peter turned, seeing movement inside the airport through the glass tunnel. Falcon and the other guy. The crazy assassin. 

Peter waved awkwardly to Quicksilver before swinging off, on a new mission to catch the two.

*** *** ***  
"Stark, is the spider-guy alright?" Pietro's voice echoed over the comm. Tony glanced down, seeing a streak of telltale blue from the speedster. 

"What? Why?" Tony asked, concern bubbling up in him. He tried and failed to ignore it.

"He took a hit, and I asked him if he was okay. He didn't answer and I asked if he was dying." Pietro grunted, dodging something. "And he nodded, and when I tried to help him, he ran off." 

Tony sighed deeply. He had a feeling something like this would happen. He didn't want to be the one to spoil the kid's secret, but...

But just as he opened his mouth, it all seemed to go to shit. 

That random shrinking guy with the red Velcro suit and helmet who seemed too eager to get involved suddenly appeared, and very obviously so. Out of nowhere, he was sixty feet tall and he grabbed Rhodey by the ankle, laughing maniacally, though Tony was certain the laugh was for show.

There was a muffled yelp over the comm, along with the team yelling various curses. "If anyone has any fantastic powers they'd like to divulge," Tony shouted over the commotion. "Now would be the time!"

"What now?!" Pietro asked, sounding panicked. 

"Everyone stay on the ground and don't lose focus on the others. Rhodey, Vision and I will take care of him-" Tony said.

"Your new friend doesn't like that idea." Natasha said, sounding bemused. 

"What-" Tony's voice died when he saw Peter swing in, eyes wide as he took in the situation. 

"I guess he's alright." Pietro said. 

"Dammit, Spider-man-" But Peter was ignoring him entirely, swinging into action, landing on Ant-man's helmet, crawling down to peek into his goggles (like a suicidal idiot), barely dodging when Ant-man swatted him away. 

Pietro laughed. "I like him! Where'd you find him, Stark?" 

As for Peter, he wasn't sure if this was fun or terrifying. The giant dude was awesome, and Peter was pretty certain he wanted to be friends with him, but right now he was also trying not to get stepped on, swinging around in circles-

An idea came to him. From Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. On Hoth, with the AT-AT walkers...

Desperately, he waved at Stark as he swung around the legs of the giant man, trying to focus on both Stark and the swatting hands. Quicksilver seemed to pick up on the idea, sprinting off and returning with a metal cable, sprinting around the giant man's legs. Peter gave him a thumbs up.

Finally, Stark and Rhodey seemed to get the picture, and when the man's legs were wrapped completely, and they flew to the man's head, punching him in the face. The man fell backward. 

Peter cheered, and then felt something hit him, and he was flying to the concrete wall-

And everything went black.

*** *** ***

Someone was shaking him. 

Instantly, Peter went on the defense, tensed and swiping weakly at whoever was near him. Stark held up his hands in surrender, saying something. Peter couldn't even begin to translate, double vision making even looking straight hard.

He tried to stand, but Stark held up a hand for him to stay down. 

"I'm okay! I can fight!" Peter said desperately. 

_You're done._ He managed to see Stark say and the man zoomed off. 

"No, I-" A new wave of dizziness hit him, and Peter sat back down, panting. "No, I'm done." He said to himself. "Yeah, I'm done...just...just need a minute..."

He supposed he could use this time to think of an excuse to tell Aunt May why he was so beat up.

Quicksilver suddenly appeared over him, looking concerned. He held a piece of paper over Peter's head.

'Blink twice if you're dead'

Peter blinked twice.

Quicksilver grinned, and Peter was about to give him a thumbs-up before he realized what the written message signified. He sat straight up, panicked, but Quicksilver had already written another message.

'I won't tell the others if you don't want me too. For what it's worth, the leg idea was pretty badass. Need some help? He hit you pretty good'

Peter nodded, and Quicksilver looped Peter's arm around him, hauling him up. Peter gave him a thumbs up. 

Peter started, seeing armed guards suddenly pour out of the airport, aiming a gun at them. Pietro shouted something, and they huffed and moved on. Peter glanced to the side, seeing Scarlet Witch surrounded by the armed men. Jaw clenched, she held her hands up, red disappearing from her hands. 

She looked at Quicksilver, and Quicksilver looked away, suddenly pale and shaky. 

But Peter didn't look away, watching in a mixture of awe and horror as the Avengers were arrested right in front of him.


	6. The "Hug"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am HERE  
i am QUEER  
i have ANXIETY UP TO MY EARS
> 
> side note i think peter would think its hilarious that he uses the sign for 'happy' when he's referring to Happy Hogan because the sign for happy is cute af
> 
> also why do the numbers 13-15 kind of look like you're creepily beckoning someone over

The ride home wasn’t lonely, but it was...what was the word? Mournful. It was mournful.

No one had died, but Peter didn’t need to hear to know there was defeat in the air, tension so thick he could feel it, spider-sense or not. He was almost entirely alone, with the plane being self flying, created by Stark, of course. Only he and Quicksilver remained.

And Quicksilver didn’t look like he was much for conversation. After all, his sister had just been arrested in front of him. He was bouncing his leg, tossing an empty Gatorade bottle in the air and catching it, occasionally bouncing on his seat in rhythm with his leg. For a fleeting moment, Peter was a bit glad he couldn’t hear it, because he was fairly certain the constant sound of plastic hitting the seat would have driven him mad.

His mask was off, the blinking, malfunctioning lights giving him a headache. And it wasn’t like he could use the mask to translate anymore. Hopefully Mr. Stark could fix it. Hopefully Mr. Rhodes was okay. Hopefully May hadn’t found out…

Peter realized there was a lot of hope needed.

He glanced at Quicksilver again, trying to imagine what it was like. The only thing he could think of that was anywhere close to this was probably if May suddenly gained superpowers and fought him, and was then arrested. The image didn’t quite compute with his head, but even so, Peter winced at the thought of May leaving him all alone in a careless world that turned on you if you tried to help. 

It would leave you alone, hated, or falling from the sky in a smokey blaze with the ground rapidly approaching to break you into a million pieces-

Peter shook the image from his head, and with a part of his mind telling him not to do so, he grabbed a piece of paper and dig up a pen, scribbling a simple message on it. He offered it to Quicksilver, who looked up, blinked, and took the paper, reading it. 

‘What do you called Iron Man without the suit?’

Quicksilver blinked again, looking at Peter with a vaguely worried expression.

Peter snatched the paper back, wrote the answer, and handed it back.

‘Stark naked’

Quicksilver’s mouth quirked, and then he burst out laughing with such suddenness that Peter jumped back slightly. He laughed himself into near hysterics, leaving Peter wondering if Quicksilver had lost his mind. 

Finally, Quicksilver managed to calm himself down, writing ‘thank you’ under the joke.

Peter smiled back.

‘So how old are you? Ten?’ Quicksilver wrote. Peter blinked, offended. 

‘Fourteen!’ He scribbled down. For some reason, this made Quicksilver laugh again.

‘You’re a baby!’ He cackled, and Peter scowled, face red.

Peter snatched the paper away, but Quicksilver found another. ‘So what’s your name?’ He asked.

Peter paused, unsure whether to give out his real name. It was bad enough that Quicksilver saw his face…

Quicksilver saw his face, and sighed deeply. ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I’m Pietro Maximoff, by the way. You probably knew that though’. He chuckled. 

Peter was quiet, thinking, spelling out the name in his head. He snatched the paper, writing down his name. ‘Peter Parker’

Quicksilver-Pietro-smiled widely. ‘Nice to meet you’, he wrote, and he offered his hand. 

Peter smiled back, shaking his hand. 

*** *** ***

Peter blinked in shock. “I...I can keep the suit?” He asked. Stark nodded, looking lazily out the window.

‘Do me a favor’ He scribbled down on the paper notepad that had become his best friend. ‘Hap’s your go-to guy for this, don’t stress him out. I’ve seen his cardiogram’

Peter nodded eagerly, practically vibrating with excitement. 

‘Don’t do anything stupid’ Tony wrote, and then paused, thinking of more. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And don’t do anything I would do.’

He flipped the paper over, sketching a quick rectangle, half of it shaded, and half of it left untouched. ‘There’s a little grey area right here.’ He outlined the center of the rectangle so thinly Peter had to squint to see it. ‘And that’s where you operate’

Peter blinked. “Does this mean I’m an Avenger?” 

‘No” He glanced behind Peter, and Peter followed his gaze, seeing Happy mouthing something through the window. He was holding up the case for the suit. 

“I can get it!” Peter said quickly, and pointing at the case and himself, mouthing the words. Happy looked relieved, dropping it. “So when’s my next mission?”

Tony blinked, looking slightly amused. ‘We’ll call you’

“You have my number?”

‘Not me, someone will call you.’ He leaned over, reaching an arm around Peter. Peter hugged him, grinning, until Tony pulled back, looking even more amused.

‘Not a hug. Just getting the door’

Peter felt his face turn bright red, seeing the car door was, in fact, open beside him.

‘We’re not there yet.’ Tony watched Peter climb out of the car, head down, before the Audi sped off with a squeal.

Peter grinned. 

_They’ll call me…!_


	7. A Day in the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, looking up what exactly an alarm clock for a deaf person does, having a vague knowledge it vibrates but wanting to know more: yay learning!
> 
> 90% of the ads: alarm clock but dummy loud
> 
> i also found this cool site comparing decibel readings and what they mean, the stuff that high decibels can do gets wild at the end  
http://www.decibelcar.com/menugeneric/87.html

**A FEW MONTHS LATER...**

Peter opened his eyes blearily, feeling an uncomfortable buzzing, seeing the red numbers flashing from his alarm clock. He sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes before stumbling to turn off the alarm. 

It was Tuesday, better known as Monday's Asshole.

He didn't really wake up until he was on the subway, remembering to send his daily texts.

_Peter Parker: Hey Happy just checking in. I'm out of school at 2:45 pm_

_Peter Parker: Ready for my next mission!_

_Peter Parker: It's Peter BTW_

_Peter Parker: Parker_

He scrolled up through his phone, making a face when he saw the seemingly endless, unanswered messages. Was this was it felt like to get ghosted by a crush? Probably.

Other than nearly getting hit by Flash's car, the morning started uneventfully. He glanced at the TV monitor in the hallway that played the announcements, not surprised to see they forgot the captioning again. It didn't matter much, usually the announcements never mentioned anything pertinent to him, though he did make a mental note that homecoming tickets were on sale now. Did he want to go?

Probably not. 

He wriggled through the seemingly endless sea of students, managing to find an open pocket of space to get his stuff organized. Someone tapped his shoulder, and he glanced back.

Ned was smirking at him conspiratorially. "Join me, and together, we can build my new Lego Death Star." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a Lego Darth Sidious, complete with blue plastic lightning shooting from its curved hands. 

Peter's eyes widened. "What?! No way, that's awesome. How many pieces?!"

"Three thousand eight hundred and three." Ned said, looking satisfied. 

"That's insane."

"I know!" Ned paused, waiting for Peter to grab his stuff so they could keep talking. "Wanna build it tonight?"

Peter shifted his grip on the books to free up one hand. "Can't. Stark." He said.

Ned nodded. "Right, right, internship. Always got that internship." He seemed a bit disappointed. Peter winced internally. He had been blowing Ned off a bit since Germany. 

"Yeah, well, hopefully soon it'll lead to a real job." Peter said, a bit defensively.

"That would be sweet." Ned admitted. "Great job on those spreadsheets, Peter. Here's a gold coin." He said, probably thinking he was paraphrasing Stark.

Peter glanced at him. "I don't know how jobs work." Ned realized. 

"No, that's exactly how they work." Peter said.

"Oh." Ned chuckled. "I'll build the first parts of the Death Star at my place, and then I'll come over..." 

But Peter wasn't paying attention to Ned anymore. He was staring down the hall, unable to focus on anything but Liz Allen, gracing the hall with her angelic presence. 

As long as Peter had known her, he had had a crush on her. She was gorgeous, for one, but she was also the smartest person Peter had ever met, the captain of the Academic Decathalon. She was super nice, and was one of the only people who didn't look at Peter with morbid curiosity or treat him like damaged goods. She just treated him like a normal person.

Peter could count on one hand how many people did that.

Even then, he knew it was a distant fantasy. She was a grade above him, for one, and she was worlds and universes higher up on the social ladder than he would ever be even if he wasn't deaf.

And the fact that he was deaf basically nullified any chances he had with her even if he happened to look like young Harrison Ford.

He noticed distantly that Ned had stopped talking. "Yeah, sure, that'd be great." He told Ned distractedly.

*** *** ***  
Peter jerked his head up at a sudden movement at the front of the class. Ms. Warren was pointing at an equation on the board. "Have the answer?" She asked messily.

Ms. Warren was better than most teachers. She still tended to overcompensate for Peter, usually embarrassing him, but those incidents were few and far in between, and she was one of the few teachers who attempted to communicate with him in ASL as opposed to obnoxious mouthing or writing things down. 

He paused, glancing at the board. "Mass cancels out, so its just gravity times sine." He said, a bit embarrassed by taking a bit too long to answer as he decided to play it safe, fingerspelling most of the words.

Ms. Warren nodded, looking pleased. She said something, and the class laughed. Flash turned in his seat, glaring at Peter, mouthing what Peter assumed was a weak threat. 

Peter blinked. What did he do now?!

The rest of the day oozed along like molasses on a hot day. 

He made some more web fluid prototypes in chemistry-although now his shirt was stained-and pretended not to be itching to get out of school during lunch.

"Did Liz get a new top?" Peter asked Ned listlessly, poking his food. 

"No. We've seen it before. But never with that skirt." Ned supplied helpfully.

"We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though." Peter said, making no effort to focus on anything else.

A piece of paper slid in front of Peter, with big, fancy calligraphy on it. 

_You guys are losers._

Peter glanced to his right, not too surprised to see Michelle looking at him with a look of resigned disappointment. He tried not to take it personally. Michelle always looked disappointed in everyone. 

Ned said something to Michelle, who replied back quickly. Peter poked Ned for translation. "I asked why she sits with us if we're losers, and she said it's because she doesn't have any friends." 

Peter blinked, not entirely sure if he wanted to know what that said about them.

*** *** ***  
After a harsh few words from Mr. Harrington about missing Academic Decathalon nationals, Peter was finally free, the first one out of the school once the bell rang.

Per usual, he rushed into Delmar's grabbing two packs of Gummi worms. 

_Hey, Mr. Parker!_ Mr. Delmar grinned. "Number 5, right?" He asked, switching into ASL.

Peter nodded, digging into his pocket for money. "With pickles and-"

Mr. Delmar waved him off, miming squishing something. Peter grinned. "Thanks."

_How's your aunt?_ Mr. Delmar asked.

"How's your daughter?" Peter said, grinning. 

Mr. Delmar glared at him. "Ten bucks."

Peter gave a muted squawk of protest. "What?! It's five dollars!"

"For that bullshit, it's ten."

"Come on, I'm joking!" Peter reached into his wallet, offering the man five dollars. After a moment, Mr. Delmar took it, still scowling. 

Peter took his sandwich, pausing to scratch Murph the cat behind the ears. He wished his apartment allowed cats. Or dogs. Or anything besides May's half-dead cactus. 

Peter sprinted across the street, feeling the excitement build in his chest. He swerved into an isolated alley, grin only growing when he yanked the suit out of his bag, wriggling into it like the world's most expensive Halloween costume.

He blinked a few times, letting the lenses on the mask adjust before throwing himself onto the wall, scrambling up and swinging out into the city.

Spider-man time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had a very vivid dream of me meeting teenage morgan stark and she was kind of a party girl and i was like on dr. phil mode and i asked if this had anything to do with her dad and i vividly remember this quote from her  
"Me? Daddy issues? Nah!"  
she then drank a gallon of pina colada in under a minute. i have no idea if it was virgin or not  
dream morgan i hope youre doing okay


	8. Beam Me Up, Spider-Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was looking at my stats, like you do, and
> 
> there are over NINETY OF YOU GUYS SUBSCRIBED TO THIS WHHHHHHHHHHY ARE YOU WASTING YOUR TIME WITH ME
> 
> sorry this took so long and that it's kinda short; enjoy

_Sonic the Hedgehog: So anything fun happen today?_

Peter smiled, sitting on the top of an apartment complex, legs dangling over the side serenely. It was funny; since gaining his powers, a lot of old fears went away. One such fear was a fear of heights. But when you regularly swing thousands of feet off the ground, and the worst injury sustained so far from a big fall was a nasty butt bruise, those fears tend to disappear.

Pietro kept in touch, and texted Peter everyday to send him pictures, ask him about his day, or question him on American pop culture or memes that he didn’t understand yet. In a way, it made Tony and Happy’s silence worse. Pietro had time to talk to him extensively everyday; why couldn’t they take one minute to assure Peter that he at least was texting the right number?

_ребенок паук: Not much. Went on patrol today. I saved a dog from being hit by a taxi_

_Sonic the Hedgehog: Taxis are the yellow ones right?_

_Sonic the Hedgehog: They are! I just looked it up!_

_Sonic the Hedgehog: Was it a cute dog?_

_ребенок паук: Yeah, it was a corgi mix or something _

_Sonic the Hedgehog: Corgi?_

_ребенок паук: I’ll send you a picture when I’m done with patrol_

_Sonic the Hedgehog: Be safe_

Peter smiled, webbing his phone up again to keep it safe. He shot a web at the side of the building adjacent to him, and swung away, eager to continue his patrol.

The sun was setting, and crime tended to be more nocturnal. That was when fun things happened, like robberies and muggings. Well, not fun things, but they were more interesting than stopping a bike thief.

He paused, perched on the side of the building, parallel to the ground, seeing a group of men enter a small bank on the corner. Although Peter was fairly certain the bank was supposed to be closed by then.

_Finally, something good_

Peter swung down to the bank, walking in to see the men already loading stacks of cash into several briefcases. That was oddly fast. Bank security here must be really sucky. Peter made a mental note to never use this particular bank.

He shuffled, then positioned himself against the wall so he was leaning on it casually. The thieves took no notice, too busy focusing on their prize. 

Peter coughed, and all the men turned to him.

Peter snickered immediately, taken aback by the cheap plastic Avengers masks they were wearing to disguise their faces. Iron Man Mask cocked a large gun, advancing on Peter, evidently offended that he was being laughed at.

Peter shot out a thin line of webbing, catching Iron Man Mask’s hand, and Peter yanked the webbing, causing the thief to punch Captain America and Hulk Mask in the face. 

Thor Mask rushed to attack Peter, but he jumped, sticking his hands to the ceiling and kicking Thor Mask back. Hulk Mask got to his feet, holding out what looked like a high tech walker. Peter lunged, but there was a low humming sound, and he froze in the air, some sort of odd blue haze around him like a tractor beam. Was this was zero gravity felt like?

The machine sputtered, shooting Peter back, and he crashed into Thor Mask, knocking him to the ground. The tractor beam caught Peter again, throwing him up and down until the tile floor cracked. Peter scrambled, managing to hold onto the floor with his sticky fingers, and shot a web out at a nearby money tray, yanking it towards Hulk Mask so it hit the thief in the back, knocking him over and making the tractor beam disappear. 

Peter webbed Hulk Mask to the wall, leaping up next to him, examining the tractor beam machine. What the hell was this? Where did randos like these guys get stuff like this? 

Peter’s spider sense went off like a rocket, and he turned to see Iron Man Mask aiming a massive gun at him. 

Oh no.

Peter grabbed Hulk Mask, yanking him out of the way of the beam. The kickback of the weapon was too much for Iron Man Mask, and he dropped the gun, barely avoiding getting shot as the gun spun wildly. Peter looked across the street, horrified when he saw Delmar’s up in flames.

Without thinking, he sprinted across the street, relieved when Mr. Delmar was fine, if dazed by the explosion and coughing. Peter helped him outside, grabbing Murph the cat, who seemed like he didn’t really care about the sudden near death experience. 

Peter looked back to the bank, panting.

The thieves were gone. 

And so was their tech.

**Author's Note:**

> in case you didn't catch it, tony's glasses translate Peter's ASL for him in real time. not very feasible, but neither is time travel so
> 
> chat and get updates on my tumblr!  
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/toadintheroad


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